


Parallel worlds

by HanHan_Solo156



Series: Hanhan’s Rammstein short stories [16]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Worlds, Bizarre stuff, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Married Paulchard, Weird short story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanHan_Solo156/pseuds/HanHan_Solo156
Summary: Paul is living his best life: married to a man he loves, both of their careers flourishing. One day though, without any warning, he wakes up when everything seems to be a bit... off.And he doesn't know how to get out anymore.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Series: Hanhan’s Rammstein short stories [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501421
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Parallel worlds

**Author's Note:**

> There was recently a fanfic contest on Rammstein's Discord channel and for whatever reason, I decided to participate with this weird little story. The original prompt from which this got its inspiration was something like "a character wakes up and sees that something is a bit off". Don't ask me though how it ended up being like this, my mind is just quite... interesting when it tries to come up with ideas.
> 
> This is just a speculation that how can we know what is real and what is not and what kind of different universes exist and how we are involved in them. Pretty deep topics to summarize in 5 pages (that was the limit for the contest) but I tried my best. :D I didn't plan continuation for this, but some people demanded it so we'll see how this will end up.  
> With this it was also the first time ever when any of my stories was read out loud and it was such an honor! Thank you very much for Wahnsinn, it was such an unique experience to hear my stuff read - and not as scary as I assumed at first.

~***~

_A human being is confined to his consciousness,_

_A fault,_

_An illusion that our tiny lives matter in this vast universe of parallel worlds._

_But in the end,_

_Who is the one to define what is the objective reality and what is the creation of our imaginations?_

~***~

The lovely bliss of sleep got interrupted by the first sunbeams of a spring morning: as a result, Paul grunted and turned his back. He didn’t want to wake up - not yet when he could still steal a couple of minutes for himself. _Damn, why sleep must always end too soon?_

Fumbling the place next to him in the bed, Paul realized to his surprise that he was alone. _Hmm. This is unusual._ _Richard would never in this lifetime wake up before me - especially when rehearsals are coming._ Paul had been hoping that he could tickle his husband and draw out those lovely little voices of annoyance, but now his instinct told him that there was something fishy going on. Everything else in the bedroom looked exactly like how they had been when he had gone to sleep though.

Hesitantly, Paul raised from the bed and noticed with his own eyes that yes, it was true: Richard was gone. _Strange._

He yawned and stretched his limbs. At least he’d had a great sleep.

Today they were about to make the finishing touches for the new album and take photoshoots. After that, they were supposed to start rehearsing for their biggest tour this far. It had been a triumphant year: Paul and Richard had gotten married and both of their careers were flourishing. First time ever, Paul felt he was atop of his own little life - the idea of how difficult it would feel to come down eventually was sometimes bothering him, but now it wasn’t the time to think about it. There was a busy day coming, so Paul should find Richard before they were going to be late.

Without bothering to put on any other clothes than his worn-out morning gown and bunny slippers, Paul approached the kitchen hoping to catch Richard off-guard. Maybe he was finishing last-minute riffs for the new album or being busy with choosing the perfect hue for his nail polish for the photos - after all, he was meticulous about his looks. Who could possibly know, but Paul was more than eager to see his husband’s lovely little pouting face when he would finally manage to scare him off.

But when Paul reached the kitchen, the roles of the tricksters were reversed: the infamous diva was sitting by the dinner table, casually reading Die Welt and sipping a coffee. At least something normal as they both were evident coffee addicts - everything else was, well, a bit off.

An uncomfortable knot was forming in Paul’s stomach when he saw his husband’s appearance. “Umm, excuse me, Liebling but are we repeating the Reise, Reise photoshoot or what is going on?” Paul asked and scrutinized Richard who had a white-collar shirt, a tie, black clean-cut trousers, and glasses. No world-class rockstar attitude, multiple belts or eyeliner. Instead of his spiky hair, Richard had styled himself like a politician. He looked like an ordinary, dull, German middle-aged office guy. All those things Paul’s husband definitely wasn’t. _Okay calm down, there must be an explanation to all of this…_ Paul thought by himself and startled when two toddlers ran past, almost bumping into him. The kids grinned mischievously and kept going to the living room. Paul turned and glanced quickly at the kids: they weren’t supposed to have visitors today.

Richard put the newspaper aside - Paul saw that he’d been reading stock market statistics - and turned to look at his husband with the eyes of genuine concern. “What do you mean? You know that we can’t afford a holiday right now, so why are you talking about ‘Reise, Reise’?”

Paul ignored the words and pointed at the kids who were now jumping on the sofa in the living room. “What are those kids doing here and who are they anyway?” he asked with an annoyed tone and turned back to Richard. “It would have been nice that you’d have told me beforehand that they are coming. We are going to be busy today, so who do you think will look after them?”

Richard stood up and came closer to Paul. Putting his hands on his husband’s shoulders, he asked: “Honey, are you… are you... ok?”

Raising his voice, Paul replied: “I’m perfectly fine, why?” He looked at Richard from head to toe: yes, he was the same man who Paul had married only a couple of months ago, but something was seriously off in here. Paul let out a burst of dry laughter. “Ok, you got me, very funny. April Fool’s day has passed already, so what am I missing here?”

“They… they...” Richard started and nodded towards the two toddlers. “Don’t you recognize... our kids?” His voice broke a bit.

Paul’s jaw dropped open and he stared at Richard with wide eyes. “O… ours?”

“Are you sure you haven’t hit your head and gotten amnesia?” Richard asked and placed his hands first on Paul’s cheeks and then moving his other hand to his husband’s forehead. “Have you caught a cold?”

“B-but… how… how on earth do we have kids? Did you suddenly decide to adopt, like we didn’t have anything else to do at the moment?” Paul stuttered - he was sure that he must have gotten wasted last night, and this was only a bizarre creation of his subconscious mind. “But… when... why… what the hell…” His head was swirling with questions.

Richard sighed and gestured a chair. “Maybe it’s better for you to sit down for a moment.”

“I don’t want to fucking sit down when there are some random kids in our home who you claim are our own!” Paul exclaimed in frustration and crossed his arms. “And where are our guitars? Did you decide you’d suddenly change your lifestyle just when we were about to finish the new album, huh? What am I missing here?”

“Now it’s me who doesn’t understand what you are talking about,” Richard said and looked heartbroken. “What is a guitar and what is an album?” The questions came out from his mouth like it would have been a completely normal thing for a musician to say that he was unfamiliar with the concepts.

Tears were burning Paul’s eyes - this was going way too far. “Just tell me what the hell is this shit,” he said and bit his lower lip. “If this is a fucked-up prank of you and Till, congratulations, you got me, so please, be your normal self again.” His voice almost broke when he said: “I want my normal Reesh back, for God’s sake.”

“Sit down,” Richard simply ordered.

With a sigh, Paul finally sat down and Richard put a reassuring hand on his thigh. “We got married just a couple of months ago after being colleagues for several years. You remember that, right?”

“Yes, we were playing in the same band, Rammstein, if you happened to forget the name already,” Paul stated bitterly and didn’t meet his husband’s eyes.

Richard creased his brows. “Why do you have to bring that terrible air show disaster here suddenly?” Leaning back in his chair, he sighed and shook his head. “You are talking about things I don’t understand. We met in the same office, then we got our little angels,” Richard said and gestured at the two toddlers who were still jumping and yelling on the sofa, “Christoph and Till. After you gave birth, you stayed home, taking care of them while I--”

Paul stood up and threw his hands up in the air. “Whoa, whoa, slow down!” he exclaimed, both in disgust and confusion. “What the heck are you talking about me... giving... birth?” He panted - it was hard to catch a breath anymore when there was too much information coming at once. “What I checked this morning was that I still had my member attached to my groin, so es tut mir leid, but what you just said is fucking impossible!”

“I don’t understand… maybe he has been at home with the kids too much… I knew it was a bad idea, it’s my fault when I haven’t been around so much…” Richard mumbled by himself. “I have to fix this… I have to help him…”

“Seriously, Till and Christoph? Didn’t we come up with any better names? How… how in the hell I could give birth?! Basic biology: you need a woman for that.”

“We don’t have those... in here,” Richard stated and rubbed the nape of his neck. “We have only one gender and of course, we can fertilize. Otherwise, we couldn’t get any offsprings. That’s basic sex education from elementary school.”

Without understanding a single thing anymore, Paul started pacing around the house, shouting: “Okay guys, very funny, but this is getting scary as shit, so you can come out now! I owe you it was a good one. Can only wonder why you thought I’d be a suitable mommy!”

In no time Richard was behind Paul and entwined his hands around the other man’s waist. “Maybe we should go to see the doc, you have stayed too much at home perhaps. I told you a million times that you should see your friends and have some other life besides family, but you didn’t listen to me…”

Exaggeratedly slowly, Paul turned around and met his husband’s eyes: he was so familiar and so close, yet so alien and far. “I… I just don’t fucking understand what is wrong here… am I… am I high?” _In that case, this is hands down the worst trip I’ve ever been into..._

Squeezing Paul tighter, Richard kept whispering: “Shh, everything’s fine, it’s okay… everything will be fine.”

Paul felt like he was a tiny kid trapped in some fucked up dream - the only difference though was that he couldn’t wake up from this nightmare.

A watch beeped and Richard withdrew from the embrace. “I should be in the office now. But please, call me at any time. I will keep my phone close.”

Richard took his ridiculously officially looking suitcase and placed a tiny peck on his husband’s cheek. “Tschüss, I try to come home earlier today. I promise.”

The confused Paul kept standing in the entryway when his husband left for work. _Richard. Having a real job. I could have never believed to see this day._

Paul was woken up from his thoughts when a tiny hand grabbed the hem of his gown and asked: “Daddy, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“I… I have no idea,” Paul mumbled and turned to look at the equally confused toddler as he was: and scary enough, the little fellow had both of their traits. The greyish-blue eyes were way too familiar for him. “You perhaps... know better.”

What Paul understood from the situation was that he’d had entered a world without music, without females - where men could give birth. Apparently, he had even brought his and Richard’s kids to this world - not having the slightest clue, how.

But the relevant question - that made all the hair in the back of his nape stand up - was: how could he get out of this back to his normal life, his own self?

Or what meant his own self and normal life anyway? Did they exist anymore?


End file.
